


Bruises make for better conversation

by bearinapotatosack



Series: Newsies Modern AU [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Mentions of Prison, Minor Violence, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapist!Spot Conlon, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 01:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearinapotatosack/pseuds/bearinapotatosack
Summary: Crutchie hasn’t slept well for months and is finally getting help, only to humour his artist boyfriend- Jack Kelly. But will he stay with it or will the realisation that maybe he isn’t fully okay be too much?





	Bruises make for better conversation

It wasn’t that bad. It hasn’t gotten worse. He didn’t need to see a therapist.

Well, that’s what Crutchie was telling himself. The subway ride had gone quiet, at least for him and Jack, and the buzzing sound of the train carriage was left between them. He found himself glaring at the cracks in his hands as he stopped himself from taking out his anxiety on his boyfriend.

The boyfriend in question was scrawling in a sketchpad, a messy sketch of one of the many people that had filled the chairs that adorned the graffitied carriage. Jack was brave, more so than Crutchie, he’d survived almost a year without his lover by his side and had the courage to tell him that he needed help. But he couldn’t help but be angry at Jack, why did he want to alienate him further?

“You know, being angry at me still ain’t gonna change the fact that you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in months,” Jack spoke up as the train carriage gently stopped, he waited once up for Crutchie to join him and they set off to the small therapist’s office in Brooklyn.

* * *

 The brown bricked building had ivy creeping up the sides and industrial windows that seemed to glimmer similar to the water lolling about in the docks. It was the prettiest shrink’s office Crutchie had ever seen, well, he had no others to compare it to.

“At least the view’s nice, ‘ey?” Jack lightly shoved Crutchie in the arm and carried on walking, encouraging his doubting boyfriend with smiles that were warmer than the sun.

“I guess so,” He turned to Jack as they stumbled into the shiny elevator, he leant against the wall and started to pick at the skin on his hands to stop him from getting too emotional. “I...I don’t wanna fight wit’ you over me bein’ stubborn but is it really necessary for me seein’ a shrink?”

“He’s not a shrink!”

“Okay, a therapist, but really? He’s so highly recommended and I don’t wanna have to come to Brooklyn every week just for some nightmares,” Crutchie’s hands flailed as he passionately tried to convince Jack that all of his fuss wasn’t needed. Nightmares weren’t enough to get such an expensive, successful therapist- was it?

“Crutch’ if you’re really feelin’ bad about this then I’ll cancel the appointment, I don’t want you bein’ uncomfortable about somethin’ I made you go to,” Jack stepped towards him, his breath was hot against Crutchie’s cheek. “But, I know that I can do somethin’ about it so why not?”

After taking a breath, Jack moved his hand to Crutchie’s cheek and stating, “I love you and I can’t just sit and watch you suffer when I know that there’s such good help available,”

Crutchie’s eyes flicked from Jack to the distorted reflection of the elevator, taking a deep breath, he uttered, “I love you too, and I’ll give it a chance, just for you, alright?”

Jack answered with a small peck on the cheek as the doors opened revealing a clean white desk with a pair of receptionists to greet them. As they stepped away from the slightly dirty elevator, one of the receptionists that was mindlessly clicking on her corresponding computer looked up and plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Hello, how can I help you two today?”

Jack lent against the abnormally clean desk and said, “Hi, my boyfriend here has an appointment at eleven o’clock with Doctor Conlon,”

“Oh yes, I’ll just check the system now, if you would just bare with me,” She turned away from them and returned to clicking away at her computer. After a few minutes she looked up at them once more and officiated Crutchie’s appointment. Once they’d been directed to the waiting room, their silence that had enclosed them encompassed them again.

“So, it’s an hour right?” Crutchie spoke up after waiting for a few minutes for his appointment, his anxiety was beginning to rise and he craved a kind of distraction.

Jack looked up from his sketchbook and returned, “Yeah, I’m gonna go grocery shopping while you’re in there and if it gets too bad, then message me, alright?”

“I’m not sure if you’re allowed to use your phone in a therapy session but sure, if I don’t like it, I’ll get out o’ there,” Crutchie met Jack’s eyeline just as Doctor Conlon peered around the door and called his name.

* * *

The doctor was short in stature, and stocky too, he was clad in a white shirt that clung to his skin slightly along with some trousers that were held up a pair of red suspenders. A worn, brown flat cap lay close to his elbows that were leaning on his notebook and he sat back in his chair once Crutchie was on the burgundy leather chair.

“I’m Doctor Spot Conlon but ya free to call me whatever ya like,” His voice was firm, unwavering, yet it seemed to make Crutchie’s mind want to open up just by his introduction. “Whatever’s said in ‘ere, stays in ‘ere, not even if the closest person in ya life begs me to tell ‘em,”

‘ _That’s gonna annoy Jack,_ ’ He thought as he shuffled around in his chair and contemplated removing his hat. “My name’s Charlie Morris but everyone calls me Crutchie for ya know, the Crutches,”

“Okay Crutchie, just before we get started, this is a safe environment and I ain’t gonna ridicule ya for anythin’ ya say in ‘ere, alright?” Spot had opened up his notebook and clicked his pen as if to stimulate a response from him.

“Alright,”

“Now tell me about yourself, Crutchie,”

For a few minutes there was silence as he riddled his brain for anything worthwhile to mention about himself, “Erm...well, I’m known for bein’ an optimist and, despite what everyone thinks, I’m pretty tough,”

“Good, any hobbies ya have? It can be anythin’ from scrapbooking to fixin’ up cars,” He said whilst quickly scrawling in his notebook.

“One o’ my friend’s arranged a board game night at the café-bar he works at, and well...” Crutchie trailed off, his other hobby was embarrassing and he didn’t want to reveal it yet.

“Is there somethin’ else? It sounded like you were gonna continue?” Spot gazed up from the messy yellow pages.

“No. Nothin’.”

With a raised eyebrow, Spot questioned, “Ya sure? Like I said, I ain’t ‘ere to judge, just to help,”

The inquisitive look that he felt on his face was persuasive, ‘ _Would he judge? He has said that he won’t judge but then again, it’s natural for a person to judge others,_ ’, but as he met the therapist’s eyeline, he spoke.

“I collect bottle caps, like sometimes they ain’t even interesting, it’s embarrassing and not really a hobby and I don’t even know why I mentioned it…” He trailed off, scratching the nape of his neck.

“It ain’t embarrassing, it’s good to have somethin’ to look forward to, like a board game night or even the next bottle cap for your collection,” Spot smiled slightly, it clearly wasn’t faked like the receptionists’ outside but barely calmed down the uprising of nerves that had been released. “Ya panickin’, just take some deep breaths, why don’t ya tell me about things that calm ya down?”

He had searched breathing techniques for when he jerked awake in the night, “Well...erm...I listen to music, the Beatles, the Beach Boys, just casual stuff from the sixties mainly,”

“Not to be too biased but I do enjoy sixties music too, anything else or is that it?”

He lowered his head as he stated the only other routine he had, “We have a balcony in our apartment, ya can see the whole o’ Manhattan from there, sometimes my boyfriend Jack joins me but it's nice to just sit there peacefully for a while,”

“It’s nice to have some time for peace, and while I live in Brooklyn, the Manhattan skyline must be pretty to look at, huh?” Spot briskly scribbled something down. “Now would ya say there’s any reason why ya do these things?”

“Well, I do have nightmares, often. That’s the reason why my boyfriend made me an appointment, he’s gettin’ concerned about my lack o’ sleep,” This was the most open Crutchie had been in a while, his wounds had been opened and for the first time he wasn’t trying to stop it. “Just sittin’ there, watching the world go by, it helps me, grounds me,”

“Even if it’s the middle of the night, it’s good to take time to breathe, take in your surroundings and let yourself wind down,” Dr. Conlon seemed to have an explanation for everything, it seemed so relieving to have some answers to the questions he never thought he needed to ask. “Now, ya say nightmares are the reason why ya feel like ya have to ground yourself, is there anything particularly bad that ya have to ground yourself from?”

“Just the normal nightmare stuff, ya know? Bein’ chased, gettin’ hurt, wakin’ up sweaty,” Crutchie looked up briefly at the Doctor before realising why he wasn’t giving any advice. “That ain’t not normal, is it?”

With a sigh, Spot answered, “From what ya describin’, these nightmares seem to be provoked from somethin’, like how ya may have nightmares after watchin’ a scary movie but long term,” He then rested back against his chair and questioned further. “Do ya know of anythin’ that could cause these nightmares, in your opinion?”

“Well…” This was it, if he told him then there was no going back, his past would be there and open to interpretation. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and quickly shouted. “I’ve been in prison for a year and I was beaten for gettin’ special treatment and I’ve had nightmares ever since!”

There was silence, it echoed in his ears until the point where he had to cover his ears in an attempt to shut it out. Spot’s breathing could be heard and, as Crutchie looked up, he could see his brain coming up with what to say.

“That would explain a lot, in ya file it says you were in prison for a year and I know that that will be a major topic for us but I wanted to make ya feel safe before we started on the big stuff,” They shared a few minutes of eye contact while he continued. “These nightmares are caused by ya not dealin’ with the problem, or not knowin’ how to deal with the problem,”

“So, how am I supposed to deal with my problems?”

“Well, it ain’t gonna fix itself overnight, but for now, all I want ya to do is write down what the nightmare is and then go through it, use logic to debunk the things that happen in them,” He spoke fluently, obviously trying to lower Crutchie’s panicking state. “I want ya to show me these notes and we’ll go through them together, eventually they’ll go away with this method and a few others that will help these nightmares go away,”

“That’s all? I coulda done that myself!” Crutchie couldn’t believe that this was supposedly going to fix all his problems, it was so simple. “I ya sure that’s gonna work, Doc?”

“Trust me, Crutchie, this has helped many of my clients. It may seem like a basic treatment but knowing what these nightmares are about and what they mean is gonna help ya mind work to stop them,” He waited a while for a sign that Crutchie was following and understanding before carrying on. “Think of it like this, once ya know how to do a maths problem, it don’t stress ya out no more- does it?”

“I guess not…” Crutchie sighed and shuffled in his seat, was this all that his sessions were gonna be? Sitting and talking about dreams because he could do that at home and not have to pay the fees of a therapist. But, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that a therapist wasn’t needed, he found out things that he didn’t know were comforting to know and, at least Jack would be happy that he was getting help- right?

* * *

 

After a bit more of an explanation, their hour was up. They said their goodbyes and he was gifted with Spot’s work number in case of emergency; the waiting room wasn’t any more full than it had been an hour before but Jack was sitting, doodling in his sketchbook with groceries at his feet. He gave him a brief smile throughout their easy walk to the subway station, their silence was comfortable this time, loosely holding hands while Crutchie whistled a tune under his breath.

Surprisingly, the journey back home gave him enough time to pick through his thoughts and rationalise the therapy session. He decided he’ll go again, not just for Jack but for himself, even if it was mainly for an explanation of nightmares.

“I’m gonna go, today was good and I’ve gotta write down my dreams and rationalise the events. Then we’re gonna go through them in our sessions so I’ve already got a routine to follow!” He exclaimed when they reached their apartment and were putting away the groceries.

“That amazing, Crutch!” Jack momentarily dropped a box of Mac n’ Cheese to lift him in the air in celebration; it really was beneficial to be have his very own cheerleader. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Let’s go to Mush’s bar tonight, we’ll invite the gang, Race, Al, Finch, Buttons, Kath, everyone!” He laughed as he picked up the box of Mac n’ Cheese from the floor. “We’re gonna celebrate you gettin’ help, gettin’ better!”

“Yeah?” Crutchie was uncertain, he didn’t want to share his problems with everyone they knew but he trusted his boyfriend so decided to go along with the mini party. “Yeah!”

And so they celebrated, drank exquisite cocktails and danced terrible dances to cheesy music- all finally happy that Crutchie was gonna get better. Jack sang songs about him, Katherine proposed toasts in his name and all of their friends showed genuine joy that he was gonna get better, and gradually, Crutchie decided to believe it too.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for a little bit and it’s part of another series of fics I’m writing. And yes, Race will meet Spot through Crutchie, you’re welcome.
> 
> Also, I only use the word cr*pple because Crutchie has been shouted slurs for almost a year in prison and he’s started to doubt himself and say that he is that word. I don’t use words like that in real life, I realised this after a comment left on here and thought I should address it.


End file.
